Letters to Noone
by Magnetic Luck
Summary: Aerith can't stop writing to Zack. Even when she knows no reply can ever come.


_"In my life, in this restless life, _

_So many wasted dreams, they all leave me tired now._

_All of my friends, _

_All of my friends' familiar faces I don't have now._

_Seem so far away."_

Time. It was the single thing they all had in common. It healed and at the same time it destroyed. She'd been waiting for too long now, waiting with her vain hope that somehow things would work out alright. That somehow _he'd _return, with her heart on his sleeve and whisk her off her feet. They'd laugh then, about how silly she'd been to miss him, and he'd get a clip 'round the ear for having been far from punctual. She wanted to see him again, to hold his hand, to ruffle his hair, to say all of the words she'd kept to herself. It was why she'd sent him letters. It was why she **still** sent him letters.

_"Do they remember me?_

_'Cause I'm still around this town._

_Where are they now?_

_We swore we'd all come back for each other_

_Well, I still hear them now."_

Aerith was the one left behind. The one left to worry and wonder. She showed the world her smile, but inside she cried, just as the skies above cried with her and poured rain from heaven's eyes. She wanted to blame him, to call him an idiot, to tell him that this was his fault. She wanted to ask why he had to go; to ask if this was her fault. She doubted he'd even remember her, and perhaps that made it all the worse. He'd have moved on to better things, and to better people. People that didn't tease him, or spend their days surrounded by flowers. But she remembered. She'd always remember. Zack Fair was unforgettable.

_"Ah, the rain daily washes down,_

_There's no one around._

_I should have known they wouldn't come back now._

_But I won't walk away._

_While the rain is falling down."_

So she told him little things, just the happy snippets of her life compacted into each letter. She told him about the things Elmyra had been cooking and how in her attempts to help she'd set fire to the kitchen curtains. She told him about the flowers, detailing with great conviction which had bloomed and which had slept. And she always talked about the children of the slums, her words seeped with reverence for the games they had been playing and how much she'd loved hearing their laughter. The same laughs he used to draw from her lips when they were together.

_"'Cause it's my life,_

_I can't turn back now._

_All I got left is time,_

_I'll just live it out for now._

_Wondering why why why,_

_Why I've been waiting here for a lifetime._

_Well, I still hear them now."_

Leaning against the paper to stop it from fluttering in the building breeze, Aerith huddled beneath her umbrella as the clouds spilled overhead, liquid seeping into the ink of her perfectly neat scrawl in unpredictable sploshes. She should've written them at home, somewhere warm and dry where her messages could be preserved. It hadn't felt right though. It hadn't held the same spirit, or the same connection. She'd taken to sitting in the church, surrounded by flowers in the same spot he'd fallen at her feet the first time. The roof needed repairing, but she didn't have the heart to do it. Maybe this way, he could fall again. Maybe that was how he'd return home.

_"Ah, the rain daily washes down,_

_There's no one around._

_I should have known they wouldn't come back now._

_But I won't walk away._

_Ah, the rain daily washes down (down down)._

_No, I won't walk away._

_I should have known they wouldn't come back down."_

Smoothing a hand across her face, the Cetra stifled a sob, the rain tainting her cheeks and nothing else. She wasn't crying. Not now, not for this. She was happy. She was remembering. Moving her pen more fluidly across the paper, looped letters continued to form, this time talking of her foray into the world of flower selling. She told him about the weird and wonderful variety of people that chose to seek comfort in her bouquets, and how she wouldn't have managed to find the courage if it hadn't been for his incessant nagging. She still remembered that conversation. He'd had so much faith in her, so much hope that she could fulfil her grand potential. She wondered if she'd ever make him proud.

_"The rain is falling down,_

_Down on the empty streets,_

_Oh, where we used to meet,_

_There's nobody down there now._

_Where are my friends?_

_We swore we'd all come back for each other._

_Well, I hear them now."_

Biting the end of her pen, the pink clad woman shook her head, smiling through her heartache to re read her words. She didn't know what else say. What words could possibly explain the jumble of emotions that were raging inside her now? Three little words. That's all she needed to say, but she couldn't. She couldn't write them because then the wound would reopen, the world would become real and the pain she felt right now, would increase tenfold. It was easier to miss a friend; less awkward too. Flinching as a tear entirely of her own trickled down her cheek, the brunette swallowed harshly, the nib of her pen once again lowered as she sketched out a map. He might be lost, she'd decided, and unsure of how to follow his feet back home.

_"Ah, the rain daily washes down,_

_There's no one around._

_I should have known they wouldn't come back now._

_But I won't walk away." _

Drawing her letter to a close, Aerith hesitated, her head tilting upwards to stare at the sky and ask for an answer. **I miss you. **She penned finally, her name a jumble of pink ink and hearts as she folded it neatly and slipped it into a rain splattered envelope. She wanted to hear his voice. To show him her flowers. To sneak up behind him and clamp her hands over his eyes in a game of guess who. But she couldn't. That ship had sailed. The opportunity lost; abandoned along with so many unspoken hopes and dreams. She needed to find a new dream, but she couldn't. It would always be Zack. Her first infuriating, yet charismatic friend. Her first hero. Her first love.

_"Ah, the rain daily washes down (down down),_

_No, I won't walk away._

_While the rain is falling down._

_No, I'm not gonna walk away."_

She knew his fate. She could feel his soul whispering when she spoke to Gaia, but it never stopped her from hoping. From wishing it was all just a cruel trick. She denied what she knew to be truth, yet the lie was no less painful. Sealing the envelope shut, the Cetra rose to her feet, eyes brimming with emotion as she glanced down at her mud splattered dress, and wondered if Tseng would notice. She still needed to give him this letter, another to add to the pile. He knew as well as she did it was pointless, but it was the only comfort she still had. Aerith wasn't ready to walk away from the past just yet. Even if her letters were simply letters to no one.

_"Ah, the rain daily washes down,_

_There's no one around._

_I should have known they wouldn't come back now._

_No, not gonna walk away."_


End file.
